The Loft
by Emilamoo
Summary: "Has anyone else ever been up here?" "No. Just you." There were three major times when visiting that loft meant something. An invitation up meant an invitation into his heart. J/L Set after 3x01 and in the future. Rated for minor language and minor themes


**This is an EXTREMELY BELATED birthday present for Brown Eyes Parker. I hope you like it! I'm so sorry it's so late… love you.**

**Angst and fluff. Kind of a weird combination, I know, but whatever. I hope it works. ****It starts off angsty but gets progressively fluffier and fluffier.**

**Summary: "Has anyone else ever been up here?" "No. Just you." There were three major times when visiting that loft meant something. An invitation up meant an invitation into his heart. J/L Takes place after 3x01 and in the future. Rated for minor language in the first part. Songfic to Josh Groban's "Hidden Away."**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist, any of its characters, or "Hidden Away." Well, I own "Hidden Away" on my iPod, and I own the CD where it was from, but I don't think that counts… I'm not Bruno Heller or Josh Groban.**

* * *

><p>"<em>All these words you meant to say<br>Held in silence, day after day…  
>… I want to free your heart.<br>I want to see your heart.  
>Please don't keep your heart<br>Hidden away"_

_i._

A pizza box is plopped onto the metal table. The smell of greasy cheese and a week's worth of hitting the gym big time wafts into the air. Everyone takes their seat.

Everyone except Jane.

It's unusually quiet. Cho is multi-tasking, reading _To Kill a Mockingbird, _his favorite classic. Van Pelt is busy texting her boyfriend, grinning cheesily the way giddy schoolgirls do when a crush compliments them. Rigsby is caught up in the sensation of inhaling his food whilst trying not to pay attention to Van Pelt. And Agent Lisbon is staring at her team, observing them while picking at her food half-heartedly.

There's the annoying buzz of an incoming text radiating from Van Pelt's phone again. A giggle. Rigsby glances at her, frowns. Takes another bite of his third slice of pizza, devouring half of it. Attempts to peer over her shoulder to read the message. Van Pelt notices, shies away, and casts him a sharp look.

"Do you mind?" she asks a bit testily.

Rigsby resists the urge to mimic her. "_So-rry_." He looks at her plate. "You gonna eat that?"

She shakes her head, waves a little in his direction. It takes less than three minutes for him to eat his fourth slice. Hesitantly, he catches Cho's eyes before moving his gaze to his food. Cho gives him the _"Don't even think about it" _look.

"No."

Lisbon sighs and pushes her plate toward the eating machine. "You can eat mine. I'm not hungry." Rigsby happily does so. Awkward silence settles in the air. The only sounds are the turning of book pages, chewing of food, and the constant tap of buttons being pressed. "Anyone seen Jane or know where he is?"

Van Pelt finally looks up from her cell phone. "No, I haven't seen him. Sorry boss. I just assumed he went home."

"His stuff is still here."

Rigsby pipes in. "Well, you know Jane. He could've gone home without his stuff anyway. The guy's unpredictable. Do you think he'll mind if I eat his pizza?"

Lisbon's irritated as hell but covers it with a playful tone. "God, Rigsby, you've already eaten over half of the whole thing. Isn't that enough?"

He shifts in his seat a little. "Um, no…?" She looks at him, exasperated. "So… does that mean I can have it?"

"_No, _Rigsby. Order another pizza or something if you want some that bad."

"But, if we're just gonna order another pizza, wouldn't he rather have a hot slice than a cool-"

She snaps. "_FINE_, RIGSBY. Eat the freaking pizza if you want to so damn bad! Just don't bother me about it anymore!"

Cho sets down his book. Van Pelt looks up once again from her phone. Rigsby's mouth is hanging open, and he grumbles, "Fine, we won't get another pizza. Gosh."

"You okay, Boss?" Cho inquires, peering at her.

She's about to automatically respond, "_Yeah, I'm fine, sorry for snapping," _but she stops herself last second. Her voice is quieter, however. "No, I'm not okay."

"Do you want to… talk… or something?" Van Pelt asks cautiously, afraid of another blow up.

Lisbon lets out a breath, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. "It's just… Jane's pulling away from us. I can feel it." Van Pelt's phone vibrates, and she is quick to answer. _Buzz. _"I mean, I thought it was bad enough when he just didn't listen to rules." _Buzz. "_But now, he's just so _sad. _He's bitter and reluctant." _Buzz._ "We fought today after the case. Again." _Buzz._ "I told him how we were family and he wasn't acting like a good member." _Buzz. _"He brushed it off like it was no big deal and we went on as if it never happened. I'm just… I'm worried about him, that's all."

_Buzz._

"You really care about him, don't you?" Rigsby comments.

"Of course I do. Don't you?"

"Well, yeah, but I mean you _really _care."

_Buzz._

Lisbon looks up sharply. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, Rigsby? Would you rather I don't give a hoot about him? Seriously, if you're going to imply something, at least have the guts to tell me straight out and to my face instead of beating around the bush."

"Nothing. It means nothing," Rigsby quickly says.

_Buzz._

It's too much for her. "Van Pelt, turn that stupid phone _off! _It is so damn _annoying_! You're holding it for Pete's sake; I think you can see when you get another freaking message! No one wants to hear that irritating buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, _BUZZ_!"

Van Pelt nearly drops her phone out of terror. "S-sorry, Boss. I, um, I didn't mean to- I uh-"

It's then Lisbon realizes she went too far. She hastily stands up. "It's fine. I'm sorry I snapped at both of you." She hurriedly slides a slice of pizza onto a paper plate and grabs a couple of napkins. "I'm going to fine Jane."

She heads to the loft- or _his _loft, she supposes she should call it, she found him in that morning. Sure enough, she sees his shadowy silhouette lying on the couch. It's extremely dark, the only light coming from the sliver of moon outside the window. Mistaking him as sleeping, she turns to leave when his voice startles her.

"Lisbon, how nice of you to join me. Is that pizza for me?"

Lisbon nods, holding it out. "Um, yeah. Here. Rigsby wanted it but I wouldn't let him." She chuckles a little, awkwardly.

Jane sits up, takes it from her, and pats the cushion beside him. "Please, sit with me."

She obliges slightly hesitantly, lowering herself next to him. She stares at the barely visible floor, listening to him eat. There is no sounds audible for a while. Uncomfortable, she wiggles a bit, crossing and uncrossing her legs. She wants to break the silence but is scared of doing so.

"You're uncomfortable," Jane states.

She lets out a small laugh. "How'd you guess?"

"Why?"

Her glance falls upon him, and she realizes he's staring at her. Her eyes trace the outline of his chiseled, handsome face. "Why what?"

"Why are you uncomfortable?"

"Why do you think?"

Jane stands up, throws his trash away, and returns. The couch sags under his weight a bit. "You're uncomfortable because of earlier today. I am sorry about that, Lisbon. If it means so much to you, I'll try to work harder at being happy. I don't mean to be disconnected."

She sighs. "I know you don't. I do mean what I said, though. We're family. You can talk to me about anything. I don't want you to stay hidden away from us. There's no reason to hide yourself."

Jane nods. "Roger that."

Her voice is quiet, but it doesn't lack the ferocity she's feeling. "See? There you go again, Jane."

"Pardon?"

"Whenever things get serious, you always change the topic and get joke around. I want you to know that I'm being honest with you. The least you can do is be honest with me."

"Okay. I'll try."

"Thank you," she murmurs. "That's all I ask."

They sit for a few minutes in silence. Lisbon is just starting to settle down when Jane whispers in her ear.

"_Buzz."_

She's grateful that the dark hides her blush. "Oh, you heard that?"

"Yup, every word. I had no idea you care so much about me."

"Please, don't flatter yourself. I care about everyone."

"Oh, so I'm nothing special?"

"No, you're very special."

He can't help but be surprised at her words. "Really?"

She grins. "Yeah, special Ed."

"That was extremely unnecessary. Your words are like bullets to my heart, Lisbon." She rolls her eyes the way she always does. "I think you'll be fine, Drama Queen."

He chuckles a little, holding up one finger. "No, Drama _King. _I am nothing short of a King, dear Lisbon, just as you are nothing short of a _senior _agent."

She just nods, blinks, and stares at the ground. They sit in a comfortable silence before a soft thumping noise catches her attention. It's Jane patting the seat very close to him. She cocks an eyebrow. "What?"

"Sit."

"I am sitting."

"No, silly goose, sit _closer _to me." Hesitantly, she inches her way closer until their legs are nearly touching. He stares off into the dark distant, trying to force himself to speak the words that are dancing around at the tip of his tongue. There's a small clearing of the throat, then a deep breath. "You know, I _will _talk to you. Someday. You're the one person I feel like I can really talk to. I... trust you. And, ah, as you know, I don't trust that many people. I just need more time. But I mean it; I'll try to be a better part of the team."

Suddenly extremely fatigued, she begins to droop to the side. Jane, ever the observant, notices and wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, and allows her to rest her head on her shoulder. "That's all I ask," she murmurs, already nodding off.

When he can hear her breathing rhythmically, he scoops her up, lies her down fully on the couch, and rummages around the room for a blanket to drape over her. He succeeds and watches her for a while, feeling that some how he was meant to be there at this moment. He reaches out strokes her head gently, fingers gliding across the smooth, silky strands.

A loud clomping echoes across the room, followed by a knock. Jane turns around to find Rigsby standing in the doorway, a confused expression on his face.

"Hey-"

Jane places a single finger to his lips, shushing him and gesturing towards their sleeping boss. He motions for him to turn around and follows him outside, shutting the door subtly behind him.

"Cho and I are going for some drinks. You wanna come? It could be a guy's night out kinda thing since Van Pelt's going to her boyfriend's. But it looks like your busy…?"

Jane peers back in the room for a moment, picturing Lisbon behind the closed door. "Nah, you go on ahead. I'll just stick around here. Maybe next time."

"You sure? Fridays are all you can eat nachos."

"As much as endless food appeals to you, I don't feel the same way. But thanks anyways."

"Okay. See ya, man."

Rigsby turns around and disappears down the stairs, and Jane re-enters the loft. He sits at the foot of one of the arms of the couch closest to Lisbon's head and lies back against it. After a while, he closes his eyes.

"I'm going to let you in, Lisbon. I promise."

* * *

><p><em>ii.<em>

And he does.

It's two years later. It's been an unusually slow week with a string of easy, simple murder cases that get solved within a day or two. Jane has been suspiciously good behaved and quiet all week, concerning everyone on the team. On this particular day, they're waiting for a new case to resolve their boredom.

Lisbon finds Jane in his loft. It's raining steadily outside, the sky a pale slate blue. Rain pitter-patters on the massive glass window, and thunder rumbles in the distance. Jane has cracked open one of the many smaller window squares making up the entire window, so the sound is easily heard. It's calming and relaxing. Jane sits at his couch, completing a crossword puzzle. He looks up and sets the booklet aside when he notices her.

"Why, hello, Lisbon."

"Hey." She looks around, noticing that he has made the space more homey, adding a lamp in the corner and placing a rug in the middle of the floor. He's moved his bookshelf up to the loft, and it sits near one of the walls, a mini refrigerator next to it. "Has anyone else been up here?"

"No. Just you," he responds, looking at her.

This time she doesn't ask for an invitation to sit beside him. "I missed you," she admits, referring to the two month-long vacation he had just returned from.

"Stop the presses and alert the media; the hard-core Teresa Lisbon missed me," Jane jokes.

She makes a noise- something between a snort and a chuckle. "I'm serious."

He looks over at her, smiling. She soon becomes all too aware of his gaze on her, and she fidgets uncomfortably before meeting his eyes. "What?" she asks testily, cheeks flushing slightly.

"Nothing. It's just nice to know that." He scoots closer. "And, uh, I missed you too." They sit for a while, both lost in their own thoughts, before he speaks again. "So, I was thinking-"

"-never a good sign," she interjects.

"-and despite your harsh insults," he continues, although the corners of his lips are turned up in a grin, "I've come to realize that I haven't been the best friend to you recently."

She glances at him, studying the way he looks at the ground, almost like he's hesitant. "What do you mean?"

"I know you and Walter broke up right before my break-"

"-we didn't-"

"Teresa Lisbon, don't you dare even _try _to lie to me. I've known you long enough to know. A couple weeks before I left, you stopped wearing those fancy but simple earrings he bought you from Paris. You stopped coming in late. You went back to wearing casual clothes. Those weekly, "secret," expensive, chocolate-covered-strawberry packages didn't come in anymore. Not to mention you were particularly tense at us for a while there.

She winces. "Oh yeah, I pretty much bit Rigsby's head off when he forgot to print out some reports."

He chuckles. "It was understandable. Besides, I don't think he minded too much. In fact, I think he was kind of turned on."

Lisbon wrinkles her nose. "Oh… yay…"

"Well, who can blame him? You're kinda hot when you get pissed."

She smiles angrily, gently slapping his chest. "Gee, thanks."

Jane holds his hands up. "What?" he asks innocently. "You are! Take it as a compliment. Your cheeks get all pink-"

"-how flattering," she deadpans.

"-and your eyes get all fiery. It's hot. You should be an uppity bitch more often."

She rolls her eyes the way she always does, trying to hold back a blush. "Shut up."

Only then do they realize her hand is still resting on his chest, her fingers now curled slightly around the "V" of the top of his buttoned-up vest. She can feel his eyes on her, watching her, and she tilts her head to look up at him. Green meets blue, and breathing ceases. The little voice in her head nags her- warns, _pleads her_- to let go of him and move away, but she can't bring herself to do it.

Finally, though, the spell is broken when she turns away, letting go of him and mumbling an apology under her breath.

Jane lets go of the breath he hadn't been aware he was holding before speaking. "Anyways, I thought we could go get some coffee or something."

Lisbon grins in disbelief. "Patrick Jane, are you asking me out on a date?"

"Now, don't go off getting too excited. I know you've wanted me to ask you for a long time-"

"-don't flatter yourself," she cuts in.

"-and would you let me talk for once, woman?" he asks, only half joking, an amused expression on her face.

"Sorry," she mutters.

"It doesn't have to be a date; it doesn't not have to be a date. It can be whatever we want it to be. It doesn't even have to be _anything_. It's just… it is what it is," he explains.

"You're getting pretty deep there, in a vague way," she jabs lightly. "But okay. That sounds nice. Just don't expect me to spill my guts out about the breakup."

"Wasn't counting on it."

* * *

><p>Two hours later, they return to the loft, both dripping form the rainy, watery, wet dash to the building. She had ended up revealing the gist of how and why she had broken up. He had been gone in wherever-slovania or whatever-ville for too long too often; she couldn't handle only seeing him once every three, four, sometimes five months for just a day or two at a time.<p>

At first, that's what she liked about him. She didn't have a whole lot of time to date, and he was often busy doing things business-wise overseas. They usually only had enough time to go to a dinner, catch a movie (which they usually just made out the entire time through), and spend the night at her place before one of them or the other had to leave early in the morning. In the beginning, she loved the way it worked. No muss, no fuss, and most importantly, no time to think about where they were headed with in their relationship. Just fun, fast, flirty thrills.

But she eventually realized that what they had in no way was a healthy relationship, so she ended up breaking it off the morning the last time they had met up. Both had been upset, and he a little hurt (he even begged her to go with him to the Bahamas for a month so they could work on it), but they agreed it was for the best and settled on just being friends. He had left her with a diamond bracelet (which she shoved in the back of her bed-side dresser), a framed picture of them from their week-long trip to Rome a year ago (on the back he had written, _"Whenever you need me for whatever… money, fancy stuff, fun, casual sex ;)… I'll be there."_) and a kiss on the forehead. But, when she thought about it, she realized that's all he'd ever been good for: wealth, fun, and sex. She needed something more in her life.

Jane had then proceeded to tell her how she deserved so much better than that and that he was sorry it didn't work out (which was a lie). She had just smiled sadly at him over her mocha latte before changing the subject, asking why he had been so quietly lately. When he revealed to her that he realized it was time for him to move on from being so incredibly attached to his wife and daughter's death, she had been shocked that he finally opened up to her (although she had noticed his absent wedding ring). She talked it through with him, relating to him with her mother's death. She had let him know that it was okay to miss them- he'd miss them forever- but that it was a healthy, wise decision for him to let go of the majority of the weight and pain. He had needed to go outside to cry in a less-populated area, and she had stood with him, holding him in her arms and rubbing soothing circles on his back, until he was finished. When it was over, they returned to the café to reminisce their memories from their past cases.

Now, Lisbon stands in front of Jane, drenched and smiling softly. "Thank you," she whispers, reaching up on her tippy-toes to place a light kiss on her cheek.

His smile falters for a second before growing even larger than it had been. "What was that for?"

"For being there," she answers, "and for opening up to me." He looks troubled for a moment, so she quickly adds, "S-sorry, I, uh, I didn't really think it through, kissing you and stuff."

"No, no, it's fine," he assures her. "In fact…"

His face slowly draws nears hers. His eyes mirror her own: curious, with a hint of uncertainty, flickering to lips and then back to eyes. He takes his time, allowing her an opportunity to back away, but she doesn't. Instead, she eggs him on silently, nearly being driven to the brink of insanity from the tension in the room.

Finally- _finally, _after more than _five years_- their lips meet. His lips are soft, warm, and prodding. But suddenly, much too fast, they're gone.

Lisbon's eyes open to find him looking at her with a questioning expression, as if daring her to make the next move. So she does, taking the plunge and pressing her lips against his, this time with a little more force. They kiss slowly, an undercurrent of desire wavering between them.

After a bit, they draw back, both grinning stupidly. Jane reaches forward, linking the tips of their fingers together, and she looks up at him. "Are you doing anything Friday? I thought we could rent a movie and watch it at my place with some take out."

He cocks an eyebrow. "You're asking me out?"

"Now, don't go off getting too excited," she imitates him, "but yeah, I am."

"Excuse me while I go mark this historical day on my calendar," he jokes, turning.

She whips out her hand, grabbing his wrist and making him face her. "Is that a no?"

"No," he tells her, dipping his head to kiss her briefly, sweetly. "It's a definite yes."

* * *

><p><em>iii.<em>

It's the first time he's actually invited or taken someone up to his loft. Ever.

It's exactly three years later. He arrives at Teresa's house, dressed dapper in a grey tux with a black shirt and royal blue tie that accentuates his eyes. He raps his knuckles on her door, waiting patiently with a bouquet of light blue tiger lilies.

His breath is stolen from his lungs when the door swings open to reveal his girlfriend standing in front of him, smiling a little and holding out a fancy, stylish black leather and diamond watch.

"So you can show up to work on time," she explains teasingly. "Cost me an arm and a leg, but I figured you were worth it."

His eyes swoop over her body, taking in her flowy, lavender shirt and crisp, tight, fashionable white jeans. He takes the watch from her, places it on her counter with the flowers, and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. "You know you don't have to buy me anything, don't you?"

She tilts her face upward, placing her hand on the back of his neck and bringing him in for a kiss. Their lips move methodically against each other's.

"All I need to be happy," he murmurs against her lips when they take a short pause for air, "is you."

A chortle escapes her as she lets go of her hold on him. "You are _so _corny!" she cries as she picks up the flowers and heads to the kitchen to put them in a vase of water.

After putting on his new watch, he follows her, admiring her as she carefully places the bouquet into a large, clear vase. Quietly, he approaches her from the back. "But that's why you love me, isn't it?"

She casts an inquiring glance over her shoulder. "You want me to love you for your corniness?"

He begins to massage her shoulders beneath the thin fabric of her shirt. "Well, among other reasons, yes."

A contented sigh weasels its way out of her, and she lets him work his magic for a minute or so before turning around and slinking her arms around her neck. "To answer you question, yes, that is one of the many reasons I love you."

They lean in and kiss again, parting just long enough to wish each other a happy "dateversary" before returning to their kissing. As Patrick deepens to the kiss, he hoists Teresa up onto the counter, standing between her legs.

Before things get too deep, he maneuvers his lips to whisper in her ear. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," she gasps, breath hitching when his teeth graze her earlobe.

His kissing instantly becomes slower, eventually ending with one last kiss on her mouth. Reaching inside his tux, he produces a thick, soft, black blindfold.

"Patrick…" she warns.

"Trust me," he assures her, helping her off the counter before wrapping the cloth around her eyes. "Keep a tight hold of my hand. I promise you'll be safe."

"Where are we going?" she asks, obediently following when she feels a tug on her hand.

"That's a secret. It's a surprise," he calls back to her as he shuffles them outside and to his car.

"Patrick Jane, I swear to God if you get me killed…"

He brings their locked hands to his lips, placing a kiss on hers. "I'm always gonna protect you. I won't let anything ever happen to you; I promise."

Her mind flashes back to when he told her he was always going to save her, and to the two times he did, and she automatically feels safer.

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes later, they have arrived at the CBI and are making their way to the front doors.<p>

"Patrick, would you _please _ell me where we're going?" Lisbon asks nervously, fumbling around with one hand while desperately clutching Jane's hand with the other.

"What would be the fun in that? Hold still, now," he orders before scooping her up bridal-style. She doesn't react other than letting out a little shriek and wrapping her arms tight around his neck.

Van Pelt, who's waiting by the front door and is in on the plan, opens the door. She grins, mouthing him good luck and flashing him a thumbs up, and Patrick nods in return. Slowly, he descends up the stairs to his loft. Cho waits by the large metal door of the loft and silently pulls it open once he sees Patrick approaching. Smiling for one of the first times in his life, he pats Patrick on the back. Once he sees that they are fully inside, he slides the door shut behind them and leaves to join Rigsby and Van Pelt outside.

Gently, he sets Teresa down, allowing her to plant her feet on the floor and regain her balance.

"Can I finally take this off?" she huffs impatiently, reaching for the knot.

"Allow me," he insists.

The blindfold falls from her face, and she gasps. She's shocked to find herself standing in the center of his loft. There are white, blue, and green Christmas lights hanging on the window and a candlelit dinner out. The meal consists of homemade pizza (to symbolize the night their friendship turned into an everlasting bond), strawberries and apples (to symbolize the day they had their trust fall), and wine. The napkins- thick, fancy ones, like at expensive restaurants- are folded in giant original frogs (symbolizing the first time he majorly messed up- and she still has the original frog). Patrick presses a button on a remote she hadn't noticed earlier, and Extreme's "More Than Words" starts playing softly in the background.

"Y-you did all this for me?" she asks in disbelief.

He nods, wrapping his arms around her. "Of course. I wouldn't do it for just anyone."

She buries her head in his chest, and her voice comes out muffled. "Damn right you wouldn't. I'm special."

Leaning down, he brushes a kiss on the top of her head. "Yes, you are."

She backs away a little so she can kiss him firmly. The tip of her tongue snakes out to drag against his bottom lip, and he's just about to take control when she steps away completely, leaving him with a quick peck on the cheek. "Let's eat. I'm starving." She makes sure that she puts a little more extra sway in her hips as she saunters away, very well aware of the fact that he's watching.

He lets out a little, exasperated half growl, half sigh. "You're going to be the death of me."

"That's the plan."

They save the strawberries for last. She takes her sweet time with hers, biting down slowly and letting the juice flow out and trickle down her chin before licking it off. He watches her, transfixed at how easily she can turn a simple act like eating strawberries into such a sensual act.

Finally, he can contain himself no longer. "Come here."

Giving him questioning look, she does as he requests, standing up and making her way towards him. He meets her halfway, taking her into his arms and kissing her greedily. She responds instantly, and it doesn't take them very long to become sprawled out on the couch, entangled in a heated embrace.

"I thought you said you wouldn't seduce me over a meal," she whispers breathlessly, breaking off.

He chuckles a little before his eye catches the clock. "As much as I'd love to continue this, there's another part of this night that's about to start now, and I need you to be standing up facing the window for it."

"Ugh," she groans, dragging herself off the couch. "This better be good."

"Oh, trust me, it is."

They stand waiting in front of the window for a bit before she speaks up. "Well? What is it exactly we're looking for?"

"Patience, my dear. It'll happen soon. Actually, more like in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…"

Right on cue, a crackling firework shoots into the sky before them and explodes into a giant mass of sparkling color.

"Patrick," she breathes. "You didn't. I haven't seen fireworks since I was ten."

"I did," he answers, putting his arm around her shoulders.

"Thank you, it's… amazing." Unfortunately, the logical side of her butts in. "Wait, is this legal?"

"Let's just say you can make things happen when you work in the crime industry," he replies vaguely. He squeezes his shoulder briefly. "I'll be right back."

"Okay," she says, absentminded and staring at the wondrous display in front of her.

Once he's far enough from the door, he takes out his cell phone and dials Rigsby's number.

"HEY MAN," Rigsby's shouting voice booms through the phone.

"Hey, how's it going?"

"YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO SPEAK UP LOUDER, DUDE."

"I said, 'How's it going?'" he repeats, this time louder.

"WHAT?"

He moves all the way downstairs so that he's sure she can't hear him. "_HOW'S IT GOING?"_

"OH! IT'S GOING GREAT! EVERYTHING'S ALL SET FOR THE GRAND FINALE! HOW IS SHE?"

"SHE'S PERFECT! SHE'S HAPPY AND EXCITED."

"DO YOU THINK SHE'LL SAY YES?"

"I HOPE SO! SHE'S WATCHING NOW. CAN YOU DO THE FINALE IN TEN MINUTES?"

"YEAH, SURE. GOOD LUCK!"

"THANKS!"

Briskly, he jogs back up to the loft, rejoining Teresa's side. Watching the expression of awe and joy on her face, he wonders how lucky he is to have found a woman like her to fall in love with again… and, more importantly, someone who loves him back and is willing to put up with his irks and quirks.

She looks at him, smiles a little, grabs his hand, and kisses it before returning her attention to the fireworks. Eight minutes later, the sparks pause. Patrick's phone vibrates, and he excuses himself, using a bathroom run as a cover-up.

This time, it's Cho. "Hey. You ready?"

"Yep."

"'Kay."

When he hears the pops and booms of the ending fireworks, he takes a deep breath, pulls out a black velvet box, and stealthily re-enters the loft kneeling silently down on one knee behind her and waiting patiently.

Teresa's brows begin to furrow as the message slowly appears within the fireworks. _"Will… You… Marry… Me?"_

"Oh my God…"

She whirls around to find Patrick kneeling before her.

"Teresa Lisbon, I'm in love with you." He then goes off into a long proposal that lasts a good fifteen minutes before he finally pops the question. "Teresa, would you please do me the honor of becoming my wife?" He opens the box, revealing a beautiful emerald and diamond ring.

Tears brimming in her eyes, she nods vigorously, placing her hands on both sides of his face and pulling him up to meet her. "Yes, oh, God, yes! Yes, you crazy, lovable sap."

Their mouths fuse together, and they can taste the saltiness of their mixed tears that roll down both their faces.

She pulls away so he can shakily slide the ring onto her trembling finger, and the minute it's securely on, he pulls her into a suffocating hug, crushing her body to his.

A frantic knocking interrupts them.

"Come in," Patrick calls.

It takes a mere second for Cho to open the door and allow he, Rigsby, and Van Pelt to rush inside.

"So? Did she accept? Omigod that was _sooo _romantic!" Van Pelt babbles giddily, squealing and jumping up and down. Teresa laughs, amused, and flashes her ring finger. The younger girl takes her hand and holds it still, allowing time to get a good view of it. "It's gorgeous," she marvels. "Oh, you're so lucky!"

"Congrats," Rigsby adds, smiling.

"Yeah," Cho joins in. "That's really something special. We're happy for you."

"Thanks, guys. I'm pretty psyched myself," Patrick tells them. "Although I'll admit that I was a little worried that she'd say no."

"I'd never say no," Teresa assures him, leaning up to give him a kiss.

And so begins the first day of the rest of their lives.

* * *

><p>They spend their first night together as husband and wife (after their wedding trip to Australia, that is) sleeping on the couch in the loft, because the loft was where the lines that separated them from friends to more were slowly erased until they no longer existed.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>WOW, that ending was so incredibly cheesycorny, I'm almost ashamed of it. But hey, everyone needs a little cheese in their life. ;)**

**It was actually quite hard to write this, but I hope it was still not horrible. It also turned out much longer than I expected (13 pages on Word).**

**Feel free to leave any thoughts/comments. As always, they're appreciated.**


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